Interlude: The Sin That Is Not Permitted

When Sheila Cho got to her apartment, she had her hands full of papers from the days work.

Big mistake, because just as she got to the door, it shot open and pair of plug-uglies grabbed her and pulled her in.

They slammed her down on her writing chair and a man came out of the shadows from her little kitchen.

Victor.

Fuck.

“So, my office hours are posted,” Shiela said.

“Ms… Cho…” Victor smiled, only the faint twist of his lips revealing what he really thought about her. “You’ve started ranging into regions you aren’t supposed to. Like the latest article about the ABB. Like your planned article about how they stood up against Leviathan.” He shook his head. “You know that you were… tolerated, only so long as you kept to your proper place.”

“So this is a hit?” Shiela asked. She’d prepared herself for the day she might get shot, but… It didn’t do much for the surge of fear that ran through her body. “Nosy reporter gets killed?”

“The Empire is not in a position to make our displeasure so well known,” Victor said.

“Right, managing to create the most popular Ward and then getting your ass kicked by the girl who saved an entire shelter.”

“The Jew who presented her true colors, only people like you might help the Bay forget that.”

“So this is a talk to get me to shut up, or write your own story? Hookwolf already tried that.”

“No, it is to ensure you never speak again, in a way that will not reflect on the Empire.”

I’m going to die. Or worse.

Sheila slipped her hands under the armrest. There was a little button there that she used now and then, a recorder. She pushed it. But she couldn’t trust to it.

If they came here, I bet they searched the apartment, and a secret recorder? That’s something a reporter might do. But there was just a chance. A little nail that had gone through the wood. She’d been annoyed at the way it scratched her finger once, but now…

The pain helped center her, as she used it to stick her finger, and felt the blood welling out.

“People know I can learn skills, the Empire’s Swiss Army knife.” He nodded. “I don’t learn skills, I take them.”

Sheila stared at him, trying to use her finger without seeing it to write the words. E88. Victor.

As last wills and testaments went, it was shitty.

“Take…”

“Not just normal skills. Other things. You wonder why cops in this town, especially the wrong type who don’t know their place, get into fights, cheat on their wives… self destruct?” He chuckled. “Self-control is a skill, after all. I can’t do it very often, because the PRT isn’t stupid, but enough, yes, enough, and the best thing is, I can take a skill… permanently…”

Sheila surged up, but was forced back down.

“Like speaking, reading, writing, pain resistance… just about anything. Even the ability to learn so that I don’t have to worry about your ever talking again. But it’ll just look like a stroke, and in fact we’ll have people in the hospital to make the right diagnosis.” He shook his head. “And don’t worry. You’ve been a very good reporter. In fact, I did use you, in the past, not enough for you to notice, but now?  Now I’m going to take it all. Permanently.”

Sheila bit her lip so hard blood flowed. There was nothing to say. If she talked, she’d start begging.

The thing that she’d struggled for. The thing that she’d been proud of… what made her what she was…

And he was going to take it.

As things started to get confusing, Sheila had one last thought.

Biggest scoop of my career, and nobody will know.

A few hours later, Victor got up, the whining of the thing that had been a woman sounding in the room.

“Clean up the place,” he ordered. He looked over the desk with the stolen skill of the thing sitting in the chair, no longer talking or looking at anything. “There, knew you’d have a backup recording.” A moment's work and her attempt to reveal his secret was erased, the bloody finger that had hit the button in her lap.

The slumped form in the chair twitched, drooled, and moaned.

“I’m sorry, but don’t worry. The Empire will make good use of your skills.” He turned to the others. “Wait thirty minutes, then make the call. We don’t want her dying, after all. What better punishment for her defiance than to spend the rest of her life… like that.”

A few moments later, and Victor and his men left.

It had been a good day.

****

Next: Wrath of God.

I will punish the world for its evil, And the wicked for their iniquity; I will halt the arrogance of the proud, And will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible.

Ishaiah 13:11